


How to save a life

by azziria



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: M/M, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-23
Updated: 2011-01-23
Packaged: 2017-10-15 00:17:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/155082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/azziria/pseuds/azziria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fuck or die - Steve and Danny find themselves in a life-threatening situation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How to save a life

**Author's Note:**

> I got to thinking about how you write fuck-or-die for a show with no witches or cursed objects as canon, and this is what my brain came up with. Fuck-or-die, of the variety where the boys have to fuck each other.

This isn’t how he’d hoped it would end, on his knees in a sleazy bar with a gun to the back of his head and a gang boss and his overdressed and overpainted moll looking on. What makes it worse, much worse, is that Danny’s on his knees next to him, Grace is going to lose a father, and he never got the chance to tell Danny how he feels about him. Nobody’s fault, not bad planning, just pure dumb bad luck, and that’s it, it’s over. Even now he’s still calculating the angles, still trying to figure out how to get out of this, but he’s a realist and he knows it’s pretty hopeless. He wonders fleetingly who’ll be at his funeral – Danny has Grace, Rachel, a whole mess of family, siblings, cousins, aunts and uncles back in Jersey, but all he’ll have is Chin, Kono and Mary, Catherine, if she’s in town, the Governor maybe, and a representative from the Navy. Not much of a head count, all told. The life he chose, marked out by the few who care and those whose duty it is to mourn the dead. R.I.P. Steven J. McGarrett, lost in action, life goes on. If he’s honest, and he rarely is about this, it kind of sucks.

The boss is Yakuza, a short bullet-headed man in an expensive suit with lapels just a shade too wide and pinstripes just a shade too garish. His girl is a local, dressed in an almost obscenely short skirt and displaying a fortune in tawdry jewelry and far too much cleavage, and she's hanging on the boss's arm like she's some sort of parasitic hothouse plant.

"So you're the famous 5-0," the boss says. "You don't look like much to me. Hardly worth the time it'll take to put you down. Maybe I should let my girl here do it, she's always complaining that I don't let her have any fun." The girl giggles and whispers something in the boss's ear. Her color's high, her eyes are bright and the look on her face is... unpleasant.

The smile that spreads across her boyfriend's face is even less pleasant: amused, cruel and contemptous.

"My girl here's had an idea. She thinks she'd like to see a show."

A show? What the fuck?

”She's got a fancy to see you two fine boys fuck. And I've got a fancy to indulge her. So here's the deal: you two give us a show, you do it right and please her, and maybe I’ll let you live.”

And oh god, no, he can’t believe what he’s hearing. Here’s his angle, his chance at buying them some time for Chin and Kono to figure this out and come and get them, for him to find a way out, and it’s _this_? He sneaks a look at Danny, catches Danny looking at him, and wonders if he looks as white and shocked as his partner. He risks a raised eyebrow and sees Danny swallow hard, eyes wide, but then he gets the tiniest and most imperceptible of nods in return and it’s game on, focused on one thing, doing what they need to do, whatever it takes to survive.

He looks up the gang boss, puts his game face firmly in place, makes his tone cocky. “OK, OK then, if that’s what she wants, we’ll do it. Only you’ll have to let us up, can’t put on a performance like that down here on our knees.”

The boss looks at him for a long moment, calculating, then smiles a nasty, nasty smile, nods at his henchmen and gestures at the table behind them. “Over there.”

The table looks solid, and the seating around it is fixed, nothing he could use as a weapon. He comes to his feet, pulling Danny up after him, backs away until he’s got his ass on the table, Danny between his legs and their heads together, grips Danny’s shoulders with his hands. Danny’s tight, tense and shaking, but he meets Steve’s eyes, which is good.

”Danny. _Danny_. You with me?”

”You do know they’re going to kill us anyway?”

”Yeah, I know, but Chin and Kono are going to find us, Danny, they’re going to find us, so we gotta buy some time, put on a show, make it last, stay alive until they do that. Can you do that, Danny? You with me?”

That gets a smile, small and shaky, but a smile, and a "This shit never happens in Jersey," a brave attempt. So yeah, Danny’s with him, Danny’s breathing, freakout under control, but fuck he’s not used to seeing Danny this thrown by anything.

He keeps his hands on Danny’s shoulders, keeps the eye contact, but calls back to the gang boss, throwing as much bravado as he can muster into his tone, “You got anything we can use as lube, man? Because, fuck it, if your girl wants a show, we’ll do this right.”

He feels Danny shiver under his hands, tightens his fingers on Danny’s shoulders. “It’s OK, man, we can do this. Just focus on getting out of here, right?” Danny nods, slow and tense, and Steve fights back the murderous rage inside him, forces himself to stay calm, because fuck, yeah, he’s been having these thoughts about Danny, but not like this, not so brutal and so public. He’ll do this right, make this as… not bad for Danny as he can, and then when Chin and Kono get here he’ll rip this guy and his girl apart himself, and fuck due process.

One of the henchmen appears, tosses him a bottle of something. It’s cooking oil, vegetable oil of some sort, and OK, he can work with that. He sets it down on the table, takes Danny’s face in his hands. “You ready?” Danny nods, “Yeah, just… go on,” and he leans in and kisses Danny, starting slow and gentle, blocking out everything around him and focusing on Danny, learning his way around Danny’s mouth like he’s been itching to do for months. It takes a moment, but then Danny gets with him, starts kissing him back, because Danny’s no fool, Danny knows that they’ve got to make this look good because if they don’t make that girl happy then it’s a bullet apiece sooner rather than later.

He reaches down, grabs the hem of his T and strips it off over his head, then starts on Danny’s shirt buttons, one by one, slow and teasing, every button buying precious time. Danny shirtless is every bit as beautiful as he'd always suspected, broad-chested and strong with a fuzz of dark gold hair spreading across his torso and down to his navel and beyond, and Steve can't resist running his hands across Danny's chest and down around the strong muscles of his back, fingers tracing the bumps of Danny's spine under his skin. Despite everything he's hard, he's wanted Danny for so long now that even here he can't help his body's reaction.

But just shirtless won't do, more is expected, he knows that. He's going to have to lose the cargoes and his briefs, and he's not going to be able to hide the fact that he's hard, and what's Danny going to make of that? Nothing for it, though, no time for shyness here when survival is what matters, so he pulls off his boots and undoes his belt, shimmies out of the cargoes and slowly peels off the briefs. Danny's eyes flick to his cock then back up again, but he can't read Danny's expression, and then Danny's following his lead, kicking off his loafers, unbuckling and unzipping and stepping out of his khakis. The white boxers should look faintly ridiculous but they don't, and Steve can't resist pulling Danny in, slipping his fingers into the elastic at Danny's waist and pushing them down, palms curving over the firm muscles of Danny's ass as the boxers follow the khakis to the floor. Danny's not hard, he wasn't expecting that, knows he's the only fucked-up one here, but Danny doesn't need to be hard for Steve to do what he has to do.

His brain's clicking into overdrive again, pulling back from the heat of the moment to figure out the best way to do this, the way that will make it easiest for Danny. Probably he needs to get Danny bent over the table, even though that means he has to turn his back on the enemy, because that way he can control his strokes and Danny won't have to watch the faces of that bastard and his worthless whore as they do it... but as he moves to get behind Danny he hears the boss's voice, hears him laughing, and seriously, when Chin and Kono get here _nothing_ is going to stop Steve from tearing that worthless piece of shit from limb to limb.

“She says she wants to see him do you.”

He feels Danny go rigid, and fuck, can Danny do this? He hasn’t got Steve’s training, Steve’s focus, Steve’s ability to compartmentalize. Plus, he doesn't _want_ Steve the way Steve wants him. He slides his hand down, and Danny's half hard now, which is... surprising, but gives him something to work with. Half hard won't do it, though, so he spins Danny round to get him back against the table, goes to his knees and gets his mouth on Danny, uses every trick he knows with his tongue and his fingers to work him, trying not to think about how much he's been wanting to do this, how wrong it is that it's happening like this. He hears Danny curse, but his cock is filling in Steve's mouth, he's gone from half hard to fully hard, and yeah, it's workable if Danny can keep it up long enough to get inside him.

He feels like he wants to stay down there forever, doesn't want to face what has to happen next, but then Danny's hand grips his bicep, _Danny_ pulls him up, smiles at him shakily and says "C'mon, babe, we gotta do this, I can do this." Danny's with him, Danny's _dealing_ , and why did he think for one moment that he had to carry this whole thing alone? He fumbles for the oil bottle and starts to turn around, to get his hands down on the table, thinking that from behind will make it easier for Danny, that Danny’ll find it less difficult to do this if he doesn’t have to _see_ Steve, but Danny catches him, holds him still. “No, I need to see you, if we’re doing this I need to see your face, and you need to be able to see _them_ ,” so he sits back on the table and spreads his legs for Danny, shoving the bottle of oil into Danny’s hand. Danny’s hands shake as he spills the oil over his fingers, and Steve reaches down and guides them to where they need to be. Danny slides one slick finger in, then a second, slow and unsure, feeling his way, like he's afraid he's going to hurt Steve, and his eyes are unfocused, staring at a spot just over Steve's shoulder like he doesn't know where to look. "Danny, it's OK, it's OK, man, that's good," and fuck, it's been a while, and this is _Danny_ , and in that focused place he's gone to get through this it does feel good, and how twisted is that?

The fingers are good, but Danny's got to fuck him, that's the deal. He gets some of the oil on his fingers, leans forward and gets his hand on Danny's cock, slides it up and down to coat the length, then leans back on the table and pulls his legs up and wide. Danny's eyes meet his, looking wild and kind of desperate, and Danny's biting his lip as he takes himself in hand and positions himself. “C’mon Danny, stay with me man, do it, just do it,” and Danny gives a little shake of his head, some sort of crazy apology, leans forward and pushes in in one smooth, firm slide. Steve forces himself to relax, to let Danny in, let Danny get deep, can't hold back the noise that Danny bottoming out pulls from the back of his throat. Danny's eyes are burning into his, it's fucking intense, and he thinks that if he can keep Danny like this, keep the connection, they can shut everything else out, make it all go away. Danny's breathing hard and he can see sweat starting to bead on his forehead. "Move, man, just move. Keep it slow, make it last, can you do that?" Danny nods, swallows, and then fucking _moves_ , just like Steve told him to, and in Steve's happy place that's just awesome, it feels so good, and it's just so fucking wrong that it does. He fists his own cock, jacking himself slow in time with Danny's strokes, and fuck, he's not going to last long, not long enough, they need more time... and then Danny gasps "Steve, Steve, I can't, I'm gonna.." and he pulls out and shoots all over Steve's stomach, like the most fucking perfect money shot from any sleazy gay porno Steve's ever seen, and jesus god what has _Danny_ been watching? It's hot and it's dirty and it's the final straw, and although he tries to hold back it's no good, he's there too.

It takes him a few seconds to pull himself together and to snap his focus back to the gang boss and his girl. The girl looks flushed, lips parted and wet where she's licked them, and the boss is still smiling that nasty, nasty smile.

"Boys, boys, what can I say? Quite an impressive, uh, performance. Most... entertaining. What a pity that no-one had a camera to hand to record Hawaii's finest in action. And such a shame that I'm going to have to kill you anyway." He motions to his goons, who drag them over and force them down in front of the boss, and there's no more time, they're out of options, and it's just not _fucking_ fair. He's back where he started, back on his knees with a gun at his head, and Grace is still going to lose her father, and all this was for nothing. He slides a sideways look at Danny, mouths "Sorry" at him, gets a ghost of a smile in return and wonders if he'll feel the bullet as it hits his brain, just as SWAT blow in the door and rush the bar.

SWAT, and Chin, and Kono, and he doesn't think he's ever been so glad to see anyone in his life. Things get a bit hectic for a while, but eventually resolve themselves into the bad guys being taken into custody and Chin cuffing the gang boss and reading him his Mirandas.

The fucking gang boss, who so help him god he's going to take apart with his bare hands, he's going to see the fear in the guy's eyes, to feel his bones crunch under his fists, make the sick bastard suffer for what he made them do, for what he's done to Danny... and all the anger he's been controlling, the adrenaline he's been channelling into doing what needs to be done, to getting through it and staying alive, all of it suddenly comes to the surface, focused on one thing and one thing only, on making the slimeball pay...

"Steve. _Steve._ Leave it. He's not worth it." It's Danny's hand on his arm, Danny pulling him away. "He's not worth it. Come on, come away, let Chin do his job."

So he does leave it, gets himself under control with a struggle, but pulls away from Danny and turns back to Chin. "Chin. You do the interviews, OK? Promise me. You, not Kono."

And Chin looks at him, a long look full of questions, but he doesn't ask. "OK, brah, whatever you want." Nothing much gets past Chin Ho Kelly, he knows that, and by tomorrow he'll know everything, but for now? It's enough. As he's turning away Chin says "Uh, Steve? You might want to..." and nods towards his groin with an amused half-smile, and oh fuck, he's still naked, he's got dried semen all over his stomach, he's so focused that he hasn't even noticed, and Danny will give him shit about that _forever_.

If Danny can ever bear to be in the same room as him again, that is.

He realises that somewhere along the line he's lost track of Danny. He pulls his clothes on, spends a couple of minutes hunting down a boot that had been kicked away in the confusion of the takedown, then casts an eye over the room. There's no sign of his partner, but Kono's over by the door, with the girlfriend in cuffs. As he approaches the girlfriend sneers at him and spits, taunts him "Looks like you were enjoying the show back there, big boy," and Kono shoots a frown his way. He gives a quick shake of his head, "Later," and fuck, there's no way the little bitch isn't going to spill everything on the ride back to the station, just to see what effect it has. Kono can be trusted, but once the story gets to the custody sergeant it'll be all over HPD. "You seen Danny?"

"He headed out a couple of minutes ago, boss. Said he was going to track down the car and swing by his apartment for a shower and a change of clothes."

Shit, Danny's running, it's not like him, he must be really rattled, and Steve needs to get to him fast. "Sounds like a plan. You and Chin clear up here, and I'll meet you back at the office."

He requisitions an HPD squad car - no point in having the means if you can't pull rank when you need to, after all - and heads out into the traffic. He sticks rigidly to the speed limit, Danny would be proud, but the truth is that he's still playing for time. He tells himself this is about debriefing, standard operating procedure, but he knows he's lying. He needs to see Danny, needs to make things right, if things can ever be right again between them, but he has no fucking idea what to say. Danny's the one with the words, always has been. Danny fills in the gaps, completes him, they just... fit, and that's why the whole partners thing works, despite Danny's constant bitching about Steve's gung-ho approach to law enforcement and lack of regard for due process, and despite his own increasingly inappropriate feelings for Danny. Bottom line is, although he doesn't like to admit it, he _needs_ Danny, and he'd begun to think that maybe, just maybe, Danny's come to need him, too. And now the whole thing's most likely fucked to hell and he doesn't have the first clue what to do about it.

The Camaro's parked in the usual spot and the lights are on in Danny's apartment, but there's no response to his knock. He waits for a few moments then lets himself in, just as Danny walks out of the bathroom, dressed in clean khakis and button-down, hair wet and a towel over his shoulder. Danny freezes as he sees him and a flush of red creeps up from his neck.

"What are you doing here?" Danny's voice is flat and emotionless.

"I..." But he's got nothing, fucking _nothing_ , so he falls back on procedure. "Chin and Kono have taken them in, they're going to start processing them."

Danny looks at him, just looks for a long time, all the color draining away from his face. His voice, when he speaks, is dangerously quiet. "Seriously? That's all you've got to say? After everything that's happened today, you're just going to stand there and talk about _procedure_?"

He's competely out of his depth now, so far off the charts that he has no idea where to go from here. "Danny, we... what other choice..."

”Do not do that! Do not come out with some meaningless pep talk about how it was all in the line of duty, and we had no choice, fuck or die!"

"But Danny…”

Danny’s white and shaking now, and so tense that Steve thinks he’d shatter like glass if he touched him. “You don’t get it, do you? You _fucking well_ don’t get it. I _wanted_ it, asshole!. Even there, even with those… those… even there, I wanted it. I wanted to… do that. With you. To you. And I can’t go back from that, from knowing that. I just… can’t.”

”Danny…” He wants to touch him, to grab hold of him, but right now he's pretty sure Danny will hit him if he does.

”Were you not listening? Just… don’t, OK? You may be some sort of superman, trained to do whatever is necessary to survive and then just move on afterwards, all in a day’s work, but some of us are _not you_. Some of us do this stuff and there are consequences, _consequences_ , Steve. Some of us can’t carry on, lock it down, and just pretend like it never happened!”

And you know what? Fuck it, fuck if he cares if Danny hits him, because there’s only one thing he can do right now, he's a man of action, not of words, and only one thing makes any sense to him, and that’s to crowd Danny, shove him hard up against the wall and kiss the fuck out of him, to shut him up, to make him _see_. It isn't pretty, there's no technique, no finesse, but Danny lets him, Danny doesn't hit him, and that's all good. Finally he pulls away, breathing hard, and rests his forehead against Danny's.

"What the fuck was that for?" Danny sounds shaky rather than annoyed.

"What makes you think I want to pretend it never happened?"

He feels Danny huff a strained laugh. There's a hysterical note to it, but he feels some of the tension ease from Danny's body. "We're pretty fucked up, aren't we?"

And yeah, that would seem to be an accurate assessment of the situation. "I guess so. But what's new?"

"Do the others know what happened?"

"Not yet. But they will. All of HPD will by tomorrow, because there's no way that little princess is going to keep it to herself."

"Fuck. This sort of thing never happened in Jersey."

"So you already said."

Danny goes quiet, and he can almost hear him thinking, working it all through, processing everything that's happened. He holds his breath, waiting, hoping, until finally Danny says "Where do we go from here, Steve? What happens now?"

And fuck if he knows, fuck if he cares right now, although tomorrow's going to be a bitch and the fallout is likely to be spectacular. "I don't know, Danny. I really don't have the first fucking clue."

Danny laughs again, less hysterical now, a good sound. "Me either, babe, me either. What d'you say we sleep on it and figure it out in the morning?" And then he chuckles, a brave sound, and hopeful, a hint of the real Danny, "Unless of course you're the sort of guy who actually _needs_ an audience to be able to perform?"

"Fuck you, Danny..." But it sounds good, really good. They’re going to do it again, do it right, wipe that memory away. And yeah, maybe they’re both fucked up, and he knows there's still a way to go, and nothing is going to be straightforward, but at least they’ll be fucked up and facing it together. And that has to count for something, right?


End file.
